


fighting against fate

by flyingonfeatherlesswings



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Begging, M/M, Stephen Strange crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonfeatherlesswings/pseuds/flyingonfeatherlesswings
Summary: Stephen begs his fellow sorcerers to spare the life of his former lover.





	fighting against fate

It had been decided. 

Mordo, former Master Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj, was to be targeted and eliminated by his former comrades. 

And Stephen Strange could feel his heart breaking anew. 

He stood with the other masters in Kamar-Taj in the globe room, the glowing orb circling above them. There were sorcerers present that Stephen had never met, old wizened figures with thin hair and bent backs, alongside familiar faces from his training days. They had met to discuss the issue of Mordo, who had gone rogue and was now targeting their kind. The most vocal of the assembly were his victims, who hung their heads and grit their teeth in shame at the fact that they were no longer able to be called sorcerers. 

Stephen had come ready to defend his friend, had practiced what he would say in his head, but it seemed like the decision had already been made. Mordo’s fate was sealed. 

“Please, you must postpone this! I know Mordo can see reason! He can right what he has done, he can give you all back your abilities!” cried Stephen. 

“You let your personal feelings cloud your judgement, Master Strange,” said one young sorcerer as he shook his head. “How many more of our brethren would you see lost? Because you think your  _ friend’s _ mind can be changed?”

“Please, let me try and get through to him! You have seen what I can achieve” said Stephen, looking desperately around the room, trying to catch a sympathetic eye. 

“We know that the late Sorcerer Supreme cared greatly for you, and saw what you could become. You are a great sorcerer, Master Strange, that we also all know, and we are indebted to you and your sacrifices. But we cannot let this wait any longer,” said one female sorcerer, grey-haired and leaning on her staff. “The Vishanti have not declared a Sorcerer Supreme, we must all vote as one, young man. Despite your great deeds, your voice cannot weigh heavier than others.” 

The others nodded along with the woman and Stephen felt his stomach turning, realizing that his begging was proving to be useless. But he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t fight for Mordo and so we fell to his knees, laying his hands against the cold stone floor, his forehead almost touching the floor. 

“A week. It’s all I ask of you to let me try and make this right. I will take responsibility for anything Mordo does in that time period! And I will deal with him myself if I cannot convince him to return to the right path. Please just let me try to save my friend before he is marked for death!” Stephen squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the tears that were threatening spill over. 

There were some quiet murmuring among the sorcerers, surprised to see Strange in such a position, but the noise was broken by a scoff. “This is selfishness Strange,” said a heavily accented voice. Jericho Drumm, Brother Voodoo, walked to the center of the room. “And an empty gesture. Sorcerers shouldn’t lower their heads so easily, action and power demand respect. And that’s what we are going to do, take action. My brother died because of sorcerers that followed a similar path as Mordo. I will not see any more hurt!” 

Stephen couldn’t object to that, especially because Daniel’s title had passed to him, and he grimaced in despair, the tears running freely now. He didn’t move from his position, ashamed to cry among his peers, but his shaking shoulders gave him away. 

The old woman with the staff came forward, “It has been decided. Strange is the only dissenting voice. And therefore we will make plans to kill this Mordo. Let’s depart to a room with a bit more light so we may draft plans.” The woman made for the door, obviously wanting to give Stephen some time to gather himself. 

Once everyone had left, Stephen let his body slump to the floor, his forehead now fully resting on the cold tiles. Sobs overcame him and his arms wrapped themselves around his stomach as he broke down. Here, in this building, he had fallen in love with Mordo. Here they had trained together, ate together, and became lovers. He remembered that night when they had finished sharing a meal in Karl’s personal quarters when Karl had noticed a piece of rice in Stephen’s goatee. He reached up to flick the offending morsel off of Stephen, before his hand came to cradle the American’s chin. He had then leaned in and kissed him. To Stephen it felt like a lifetime ago. 

He wished he could sour his mind against the man, see him for the villain that his actions had proven him to be. But when he thought of Mordo, his Karl, he only saw a kind smile and soft large dark eyes. His love who had been sentenced to death. 

Stephen’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at the touch. He thought he had been alone to openly show his despair, but he relaxed when a voice gently said, “Stephen.” It was Wong, his closest friend and confidant. Who had also voted for Mordo’s death. 

Stephen sat back on his knees and looked up at his friend with watery, red-rimmed eyes. He brought an arm up to wipe his face on saying, “So you agree with them, then? Will you aid in his murder?” 

“Do not think my decision was easy, Stephen. But know this, I did it help keep you safe. Who knows what ill will he holds for you.” 

Stephen certainly did not know. He asked himself everyday what he had done to make Mordo hate him so. 

“I will not join in on the planning,” said Wong, “Out of respect for you.” 

Stephen pushed himself from the floor and took a deep breath, holding out a hand to beckon the Cloak from its position by the wall. The fabric flew over and settled on his shoulders and Stephen grabbed his sling ring from his belt, opening a portal back to the Sanctum. 

“I won’t give up,” said Stephen, turning to face his friend. 

Wong nodded, “I know. And I know better than to think I can stop you. But it will be your downfall one day.” 

“I’ll take the chance,” said Stephen as him and Wong stepped through the portal. 

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe now that you read this know that I stole the idea (and a couple of lines) from Naruto Shippuden :3c


End file.
